


KiriDai Everyone

by stephanericher



Series: KiriDai Everyone [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:27:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 3,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>exploring situations in which various characters attended Kirisaki Daiichi instead of other schools. from tumblr prompts. each chapter is a self-contained ficlet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mibuchi

**Author's Note:**

> prompted by remindmeofthe, 11th May 2014

Reo’s a better player than Makoto is, but he doesn’t hold it over Makoto the way Makoto’s always held it over his teammates—it makes him uneasy; Reo makes him uneasy. He’s at once overly-friendly and closed-up, a mysterious mixture of fluttering hands and giggles and vague answers and well-placed shots. He’s devious, but trustworthy, not with secrets (which he almost definitely wants to know, but there’s no way Makoto’s going to tell) but with the basketball—which is really more important. His shots are key; subbing him in at the crucial moments can spark a comeback, turn the tide, or seal the win, ease the pressure on Makoto—he can score, but scoring isn’t as fun as stealing and passing and setting things up. He’s the chessmaster and Reo is his queen, the game-breaker, the one who’s worth the most (not to mention his way with words, which almost—but not quite—rivals Makoto’s). 

And damn does he look good riding Makoto’s cock, eyes fluttering and head thrown back and face flushed, moaning like a whore but so, so tight. And so Makoto will put up with the uneasiness, will continue to deflect Reo’s attempts at “improving” him (after all, Reo wants him the way he is, so Makoto can’t even begin to take it seriously), will let him have his way more often than is good for a spoiled guy like that, will ignore his other teammates’ snide remarks about it. Because Reo is his, and he’d much rather have someone this dangerous on his side.


	2. Aomine & Kagami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 12th May 2014

"You fucker," says Aomine. "That was my shot, not yours."

"Oh?" says Kagami. "Funny, because I had the ball. Hanamiya passed it to me."

"Yeah, what are you doing, playing favorites with that little bitch?" Aomine says, turning toward Hanamiya and jerking his thumb in Kagami’s direction.

Hanamiya rolls his eyes. 

"Bring it," says Kagami. 

The ref blows his whistle; their time out is over. Hanamiya announces the substitutions; he’d rather watch this from the bench, anyway. The reserve guards step onto the court and play resumes; Hanamiya towels off his forehead and leans back in his chair.

"Hey, is this—"

"Shut up, Yamazaki."

Talking will ruin the cruel beauty of it all, the competition between them and them alone, their urge to utterly wreck their opponents—Aomine moves so fast sometimes that his motions can’t be seen, a swift elbow to the jaw or kick to the shin, all just a part of his ridiculous shooting motion, and Kagami’s recklessness and drive to prove himself as just as good or better, all the ways he’s ridiculously devoted to Aomine (there was the time Hara asked him if he’d suck Aomine’s cock in the middle of the court if he asked him to and he started to nod before Aomine clocked Hara solid in the jaw, likely because Aomine was probably turned on by the thought).

And then they strike. 

The eight other players on the court are irrelevant now, just getting in the way of Aomine and Kagami, who are playing against each other—who can steal the ball first? They double-team the unfortunate player on the other team until he crumbles and gives the ball up, and then it’s off to the races toward the hoop, blocking each other’s shots and dunking on each other, shooting threes and twos from random spots on the court, dribbling faster than should be possible, wild glares in their eyes. It’s just the two of them in their world, swiping opponents aside like wildcats batting aside bugs; the other players are wounded and winded and the refs are paralyzed with confusion and Hanamiya leans back and takes a long sip of water. They really are blossoming into something deadly; the crushing despair on their opponents’ faces is priceless. This is the ultimate desperation; it might just be worth how goddamn annoying these freshmen are all the time.


	3. Midorima

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 13th May 2014

It shouldn’t have been like this. He should have gone to Shutoku despite his parents’ wishes (even if it’s not an elite prep school, he’d still get a fine education there) and should be laying straightforward, clean basketball like he always has. But that Takao guy suckered him in with all his talk about glory, and the glint in his eyes was captivating and reckless, in a different way than Akashi’s has ever been—but this isn’t about him; this isn’t about any of them but Midorima. He’s the one to blame for all the pride before his own fall, but it actually felt kind of good to hit the bottom. What scares him the most isn’t the tactics or those second years; it’s that playing the villain like this is _fun_. There’s something enjoyable about bringing his arms down on someone’s head and making it look like an accident;  he turns and starts heading toward the other end after he shoots and he stomps on the toe of the useless goon trying to defend him and he feels so much better about everything.

And then there are those second years, always grinning at him like there’s something he doesn’t know or making his stomach clench in a way that he’s not used to; he’s not anxious about this the way he’s anxious about his grades or his shot (he still stays long after practice to work on it) or what his parents think. It’s all too confusing until Hara grabs his hand.

“You can have all of us, you know,” he says.

Before Midorima can process the meaning of that statement Hara’s mouth is on his and someone else (Yamazaki?) is groping him from behind and the warmth of all five of their collected bodies around him is lighting up something inside him. They’re all touching and pulling and licking and twisting and the first thing he can think of is that he doesn’t deserve it, but his body tells his mind to shut up and enjoy it so he kisses back, reaches out with his own clumsy hands to reciprocate. And it feels so damn good, although at this point he should probably be expecting that.


	4. Miyaji

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 13th May 2014

Those goddamn kouhai, acting like he should be grateful they let him stay on the team after all the shit that went down when they’re the ones who should be grateful he’s still here after the shit they pulled. This is an elite prep school, not some nesting ground for kids to take over and sack coaches, even if these kids do have a point about how shitty the coach is.

Anyway, someone’s got to keep them in line, and even if Hanamiya thinks he’s the shit (and, okay, he’s ridiculously smart and the best player on the team by far, even if Miyaji will never tell him because it’s not like he needs anything else to feed his ridiculous ego) he’s still one of them, even though he’s the captain and the coach.

The other kids really aren’t too bad, even if Hara likes to provoke him and Furuhashi’s a creepy weirdo. Seto’s quiet, even if he drools a lot and doesn’t pay enough attention, and Yamazaki’s refreshingly ordinary in comparison to all of the others. And even if they win by cheating, they’re probably not good enough to win otherwise—and they also let the bench players play a hell of a lot more than the old coach did (which was not at all). They aren’t all bad, although if Miyaji ever gets his license (and a car), he might want to run them down just so they don’t get too cocky. 


	5. Sakurai

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by eternalelysium on 13th May 2014

It’s Yamazaki’s fault he lets Sakurai drag him down to that level of immature stubbornness, stupid petty arguments about who’s the better shooting guard and who should get more playing time; their arguments are almost constant, punctuated only by Hanamiya’s complaints about the arguments and how he won’t really know until the game who he’ll put in where so they should both shut up and practice. At least that gets Sakurai to apologize (he doesn’t cry most of the time) and Yamazaki to glare and temporarily shut up.

Actually, in Furuhashi’s opinion the competition is probably good for them. They try to outdo each other on the court, drawing more fouls and stealthily injuring more opponents as well as shooting more baskets. And anything that gets Yamazaki all twisted is pretty fun to watch, and Furuhashi can always ditch him if he complains too much. And Sakurai’s fun to mess with, too; it’s fun to make him snap, to play with both the meek and whimpering side and the angry and belligerent one. It might even be worth putting up with Hanamiya’s whining.


	6. Akashi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 13th May 2014

No one knows the exact terms of Akashi and Hanamiya’s agreement and no one wants to; the important thing is that they’re winning by playing the style they’d worked on—drawing fouls, attacking when the refs are looking the other way, working their opponents into enough of a rage that they lose focus. Akashi is the ace, the lynchpin, the secret weapon—like Hanamiya, he enjoys sitting back and watching things play out, and like Hanamiya he’s too eager to assert his authority. His talents can’t be legal, anyway, and that solidifies how well he fits on this team despite his talent. He’s ruthless; he will do anything in order to win—that is not Hanamiya’s goal, but they concede a bit to each other, relish in their opponents’ despair as they are throttled physically and psychologically and the score is tipped wildly in Kirisaki Daiichi’s favor.

And winning makes everything more fun, in a different kind of way—basketball is not just a way to pass the time and screw with people; it’s something bigger than that now. Whether that’s a good thing or not is a different matter entirely, but they’re going to make the most of it while they can.


	7. Takao

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 15th May 2014

Takao’s still not sure about basketball this year. The Generation of Miracles, that green-haired guy, and his utter defeat are still bouncing around in his head. Usually, he can find the optimism and motivation to do something (after all, he studied hard enough to get a good scholarship to Kirisaki Daiichi) but he’s not quite sure about basketball. He’d put his name on the list, but as he stands at the doorway to the gym the despair is lapping at his feet.

Come on, Kazunari, are you a coward?

He shoves the door open.

Two guys, one he’d recognized from the club sign-up and one with these mega-weird eyebrows, are playing against two tryouts. The tryouts are breathing heavily, clearly outmatched. Still, one of them runs up to the eyebrow guy and gets in his face, trying to steal the ball. Without thinking, Takao uses hawkeye to see the configuration of the limbs and the expression on their faces. The eyebrow guy smirks and digs his heel right into the arch of the other kid’s foot and the other kid falls flat on his back. The eyebrow guy passes to the other guy, who manages to shake the shitty coverage and jog down for an easy layup.

“Are you all right?”

The kid lying on the floor looks up in terror.

Damn. That guy definitely did it on purpose and there’s no way Takao would have seen it with normal vision. It’s not nice; it’s not something Takao could be proud of doing himself—but it would be awfully fun to elbow that green guy in the stomach without a foul, to take revenge on all of those rainbow kids, to finally vanquish the despair and that tugs on his insides constantly.

He steps forward.


	8. Murasakibara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 1st June 2014

Murasakibara glares down at the Josei shooting guard who is quaking in his sneakers—even the shock absorbency can’t hide his fear. Not that Murasakibara really cares either way; he folds his arms over his chest and scowls harder.

“So annoying. I’ll crush you all.”

Those are the only promises he ever makes and he keeps them all; this is no exception. He runs down the court, wild limbs knocking into other players; his blocks are so forceful the shooters seem to almost hyperextend their shoulders when he brings down his arm and every time he gains possession for himself he dunks the ball easily and yet bends the rim a little farther each time. The Kirisaki Daiichi deficit has disappeared, replaced by a steadily-increasing lead. He’s way too much for the Josei players to attempt to handle; that much is clear.

And it’s glorious to watch him, to watch the utter devastation in his wake; he’s like a tornado tearing through everything the Josei players possess, everything they have worked for—all the teamwork and the perfect plays and the spirit. They wither away like frozen leaves, and it’s captivating and breathtaking and it might just be even better than actually doing it themselves.

And if Hara looks the other way the next time Murasakibara steals his gum, then what of it? It’s a small price to pay for satisfaction.


	9. Kiyoshi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by crossdressingkurapika on 23rd June 2014

The crash is loud and grating; Makoto winces as they fall to the floor. Teppei springs back up right away, rubbing his neck and blushing.

 

"Whoops! I guess I got a little too caught up in thinking about the next play."

 

"What the hell?"

 

The other team’s forward still hasn’t gotten up; he’s clutching his elbow and his body is braced in pain. Teppei extends his hand to help him and the guy scowls and scoots backward.

 

"I’m sorry."

 

If Makoto didn’t know any better he’d say the look of distress on Teppei’s face was genuine—of course it isn’t. The other captain pats his player on the back and pushes him up; he clearly believes the act—what an optimistic simpleton. Teppei strolls back toward his position and Makoto takes a moment to appreciate the fine figure he cuts in the Kirisaki Daiichi uniform. Damn. 

 

"Stop staring at his ass."

 

"I’m not staring."

 

Furuhashi shrugs and Makoto scrambles for his clipboard.

 

"Yeah you are. It’s fine you guys are dating but, like, get a room."

 

Never mind. Hara is an easier target, but he ducks the swing and instead Makoto gets Kentarou’s thigh. He keeps snoring, totally unaware. 

 

"I should cut all of you from the team."

 

"Aww, you wouldn’t do that," says Hara.

 

"You’re right. I’d keep Kentarou; he knows when to shut up."


	10. Kiyoshi Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 28th June 2014

The Yosen match was exhausting; that’s something they all agree on as they stagger into the bus to take them back to Tokyo. Yamazaki has to practically pull Kentarou up the stairs and the smack of Hara’s lips as he chews his gum is considerably slower than usual. No one’s even really talking, and they flop down in their seats and slump over. It’s improper and rude, but they’re all almost asleep and Makoto’s too tired to give a lecture. He sits properly in his seat; there is still a lot of planning to be done for their next match and he has homework that he’s been putting off (not that that’s hard, but he does have to get it done). Teppei plops down next to him when he’s checking his phone.

“How did I do, Coach?”

He has the nerve to be this cheerful when they’re both about to keel over? Really? Makoto glares and goes back to his e-mail. Teppei’s arm snakes around his waist a few seconds later and Makoto lets it; he’s warm and the driver turned on the air conditioner too high (has he forgotten that they’re in Akita?) and then Teppei’s head falls onto his shoulder.

“You’re heavy.”

Teppei hums and snuggles closer.

“How am I supposed to get any work done like this?”

“Shh. Sleep.”

Makoto glares, but Teppei’s eyes are already closed and he’s pulling Makoto closer and Makoto would elbow him in the chin but he can’t risk fucking with his top center just to prove a point when they’re playing Touou in two days. Anyway, he’s got most of the strategy figured out and he can write it down later, so maybe he will sleep rather than argue right now.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

He’s the absolute worst.


	11. Imayoshi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 28th June 2014

It’s just getting fun when he’s yanked from the game, quite literally, too, with Makoto pulling on the back of his jersey.

“What’s that, Mako-chan? Did you want to touch me that much?”

“Shut up!”

If the Josei kids are sitting ducks, Makoto’s a giant red bull’s eye. Teasing him is almost too easy—well, it would be if it wasn’t so fun.

“I’ll help you with your jacket if you’d like.”

“You think I’m going in?” He sneers.

“I thought it might be a possibility.”

“It never was.”

Makoto turns away to bark orders at the reserve players who are about to go in. His clenched fists are so adorable; he’s always cute, really.

“Pining again?”

It’s Hara—but then again, who else would it be? Shouichi laughs.

“Does it count as pining at this stage of the game?”

Hara shrugs. “Probably not. I keep forgetting that teasing you isn’t fun.”

“Do I bore you?”

“Nah, you’ve given me enough ammunition to torture him with for, like, ever already. And also you keep him in line. And, you know, you’re good at basketball and stuff.”

“Is that approval?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not as fun as he is, either.”

Hara shrugs. “I gotta take as much as I can give.”


	12. Momoi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by Anon on 1st July 2014

“Don’t send out Furuhashi.”

“What?”

“Don’t send out Furuhashi.”

She flicks a lock of hair behind her ear and scribbles down something in her notebook, not bothering to look up at him.

“Why? He’s my best forward; I can’t have the second string out next quarter. We’re behind by ten and they’re getting cocky and sloppy; when are we getting a better opportunity?”

“Send out Hara by himself. Do you know this referee?”

“Which one? They’re all the same.”

“The one talking to the Senshinkan coach.”

“No.”

“Two years ago, he was the referee for one of Furuhashi’s middle school tennis matches, in which Furuhashi broke his doubles partner’s wrist and then shot the ball at the referee’s chair.”

“Why the fuck is he refereeing basketball?”

“He got scared off from tennis, understandably so. Anyway, you can’t have Furuhashi in because that guy’s going to watch him like a hawk and get him fouled out of there.”

“So what? If he doesn’t play he might as well have fouled out.”

Momoi sighs. “It’s different. They’ll play sloppy and mad if we keep a regular on the bench, and they know who our regulars are. Besides, if he fouls out that makes the other refs suspect all of you guys and it gives them confidence—not overconfidence, but confidence.”

Hanamiya grits his teeth. “What makes you so goddamn sure?”

“Woman’s intuition.”

Hanamiya rolls his eyes. “Hara, you’re going in next quarter. You, too, Yamazaki. Mayama, Tsugimoto, stay in.”

He makes a point of not looking back at her smirking face. So what if he’s taking her advice this time? And so what if every time he’s followed her advice things have worked out so far? It’s only because he’s doing it; she is merely coincidental. That’s it.


	13. Riko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by anon on 14th July 2014

Aida is positively evil, maybe the only person in this school more dangerous than Hanamiya and that’s even with no social status or connections. She places third in grades after Hanamiya and Seto, and her basketball mind is off the charts—her intense focus and ridiculous training schedules leave them all reduced to near-sickness every day but damned if they don’t work. And her wrath is perhaps even scarier than Hanamiya’s. He loses focus when he’s truly angry; she only gains it and forces it on the whole team.

Hanamiya hates her and she him, but there’s a grudging respect between them, the teenage coach and the precocious ace; on the court they lay aside their personal grudges (and Yamazaki will swear to it that she keeps a ledger of every time Hanamiya has made fun of her chest and Hara will make it a point to talk loudly about how Hanamiya draws her being muzzled in his class notebook and Furuhashi will suggest that it’s really belligerent sexual tension, much to everyone’s horror because the only thing worse than their annoying bickering would be the two of them as a couple) and they unite in the common goal of demolishing the other team. And they leave a path of destruction in their wake that’s worse than anything any of them could have imagined.


	14. Takao & Kagami

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompted by redbasketeer on 27th December 2014

Takao sees everything; it’s one of the things that make him so brutally effective (and does not endear him to their coach at all) but he also sees everything Kagami does, every elbow to the side and every dirty street-style shove, and he makes Kagami teach him after practice when everyone else has left. It’s clear Takao didn’t get into this school on family money; he got here on brains and he’s a very eager learner (and he won’t let Kagami copy his homework even though neither of them can claim any sort of moral high ground). He’s a natural athlete, though; he’s flexible and adept at ducking out of the way when the opponents get too chippy, making it look like he’s been hit when he was half a foot away from their fingertips. And before long Kagami realizes how much he’s been looking at Takao, really looking, and how cute Takao is except there’s no time to look because he has to at least fake like he’s trying to keep up with Hanamiya’s game plan but he still finds time anyway.

“I saw you looking,” Takao says one day after he holds Kagami late.

After that, they tend to spend these afternoons making out rather than playing basketball, and Kagami would probably say it’s a better use of their time.


	15. Haizaki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anon, 3/21/16

Like this, practice isn’t so bad. Well, sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it sucks and they do shitty drills and Hanamiya doesn’t do all of them but excuses himself because he’s the coach, but Haizaki’s not the only one complaining when he does. Yamazaki’s muttering profanities under what little breath he has left and Furuhashi’s loudly making passive-aggressive remarks and Haizaki knows he could just stop and take a break and he won’t get too much shit for it but he never does. Everyone else is still going, too, and he’s a better player than they are.

And practice isn’t so bad when the older kids enlist his help to prank Seto when he’s sleeping, or when they hang out with him in the first place, don’t treat him like a troublesome child or an insignificant thing. There’s a sense of hierarchy, sure, but it’s a hierarchy where Haizaki can jostle for position with Yamazaki and Matsumoto and it never feels like he’s on the bottom clinging to something that’s going to fall away and then he won’t even be good enough to be part of their damn system. Because Matsumoto’s got a shitty taste in snacks but Haizaki still steals them from him and Furuhashi is the worst, dirtiest Mario Party player ever but Haizaki still beats him and they still rematch every time they’re over at Seto’s house while Seto is snoring on the bed and Hara’s still interested in learning different ways of throwing up elbows from him and, well. It feels…comfortable. Well, that’s what it would be if Haizaki had to put a word on it. And it feels strange to say—but, he supposes, no stranger than the rest of it.


End file.
